The Waiting Game
by somethingquestionable
Summary: Short ficlet from Kate's point of view as she waits for Doc one Christmas Eve in Tombstone.


Kate waited in the cold, empty hotel room.

The room was dark. Scores of candles, having long since burned out, stood cold and empty around the room.

Her still form was reclined atop the bed, her head resting lightly against the headboard. Hooded, vacant eyes gazed straight ahead of her and out the window where the view of Tombstone's burgeoning sky-line was obscured by the arrival of a lightly falling snow. One ghostly hand trembled slightly as she raised a delicately gripped half-smoked cigarette to her chapped lips, the other she used to clasp a silken shawl around her bare shoulders.

It was Christmas Eve, and Kate was alone.

She took another long drag of her cigarette, flicked the ash away uncaringly and pulled the shawl more tightly around her slight frame. Idly, she wondered what time it was, how much time had passed since she had been waiting here.

She wondered if you could tell how much time had passed by the number of cigarette butts littering the floor. By the number of empty whiskey bottles and shot glasses on the table. By the length of the shadows on the walls.

By the horrible aching feeling in the pit of her stomach that seemed to be growing by the minute.

Kate lit up another cigarette.

She had told him, hadn't she? She'd been clear?

She went over the conversation in her mind one more time. Instantly every detail of the Oriental appeared in her head: the plush carpeting and rich mahogany furnishings, the soft lights and heavy scent of cigars, and, of course, the four men that sat at the far table, their deep voices merging together as they laughed and carried on, troubles forgotten by the flowing of alcohol and seasonal confluence.

She had been there too, watching passively from a chair at his side, always at his side, keeping track of the time in anticipation of the night she had planned for them.

Finally, around ten she had leaned in close to his ear, breathing in his scent, a unique combination of booze and cigarettes and earth that always set her nerves on fire, and said quietly,

"I'm going to turn in, luv. Finish up your card game and join me back at the room, won't you?"

One hand had been resting on his breast, playing with his silk vest and running her skilled fingers across his torso, smiling in real delight when she felt his heart speed up due to her ministrations. He gave her a knowing look and nodded.

"Whatever you wish, darlin'," he'd drawled, giving her a long leer before turning back to his card game and rejoining the conversation.

She had hovered over the table a bit longer, waiting to see if the game would be over soon but it had quickly become apparent that it would be a little longer. She kissed him on the cheek and left.

The snow had started as she began the short walk to their hotel. It was still falling when she got there and she could see it through the window as she made her way about the hotel room, lighting the candles that she had placed on every available surface and fluffing the numerous pillows.

She could see it as she poured two glasses of whiskey, setting them on the nightstand beside the bed. And she could see it as she slid into her silk night shift, relishing the feel of the light fabric against her skin even as she shivered against the cold. She saw it as she turned off all the lights save for the many candles and she saw as she crawled onto the bed and settled in to wait.

The snow was still falling.

Kate was still alone when she woke up. The distant sound of church bells could be heard in the distance. The other side of the bed hadn't been slept in.

Nursing a hangover, Kate numbly forced herself to get up and get presentable. She bathed, and got dressed, fixed her hair and applied some rogue. Stumbling downstairs, she declined the hotel clerk's suggestion of breakfast and walked outside.

The whole town was covered in a blanket of freshly fallen snow. Here and there she saw a few families walking down the street, presumably to or from church, and the occasional drunken Cow Boy making his way home from a night of hard drinking, but other than that she had the town to herself.

She walked on.

Finally, the large house she knew to be the Earps' residence came into view. Her footsteps seemed to get heavier with every step as she made her way across the street and came to stand on their porch. She could hear a low murmur of voices from inside in the living room.

Raising her hand to knock on the door, Kate hesitated, biting her lower lip, and withdrew her hand. Instead, she walked over to the window and peered inside, her breath catching at the picture she saw there.

The entire Earp family was variously placed through out the living room.

Morgan and Virgil had their arms around their wives as the two blondes happily opened two beautifully wrapped packages, the huge smiles on their faces and shaking of their shoulders suggesting that they were trying not to dissolve into laughter over something that was being said.

Wyatt stood by the fireplace, idly watching his wife Mattie open her own gift, but most of his attention was on the man standing next to him, not an Earp, but plainly as much a part of the family as anyone.

All of them were laughing and joking with each other, oblivious to the woman watching them from outside and the twin trails of tears sliding down her cheeks.

Kate sighed and rested her forehead against the cool glass for the briefest of moments before pulling away again.

"Happy Christmas, Doc," she whispered and turned back to walk through the pristine white streets of Tombstone to once again wait for her lover in a cold, empty hotel room.


End file.
